


The Language of Silence

by impala_deviations (Aedemiel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Glory Hole, M/M, don't speak, silent sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 14:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aedemiel/pseuds/impala_deviations
Summary: They never discussed it. Somehow, without ever speaking a word, they had fallen into a pattern of behaviors that signaled when they both wanted this to happen. But if it remained unspoken, undiscussed then they could ignore it. Pretend that they weren’t doing what they were doing. Sam tried not to think about it, and he was pretty sure Dean pushed each encounter out of his mind as soon as they were done.





	The Language of Silence

They never discussed it. Somehow, without ever speaking a word, they had fallen into a pattern of behaviors that signaled when they both wanted this to happen. But if it remained unspoken, undiscussed then they could ignore it. Pretend that they weren’t doing what they were doing. Sam tried not to think about it, and he was pretty sure Dean pushed each encounter out of his mind as soon as they were done.

He could feel it, when the need had built to the point that neither of them could resist. The glances that would linger too long, the touches that were loaded with meaning and the tightening of the muscles around Dean’s mouth told Sam that it was going to happen soon. He never objected, it had never occurred to him to do so. Even when they’d been at their most distant, they always came back to this.

Dean swung the Impala into the parking lot of a familiar bar and Sam felt the tension grip his stomach as he recognized it. He swallowed hard, he wanted this and hated himself for it. But he knew the drill.

He got out of the car as soon as Dean shoved the gear lever into park and headed for the door. Dean would hang back a little, make it less obvious that they were together. Inside, it was quiet, there were only a few other patrons and none of them were interested in strangers. Sam ordered a shot of whiskey that he regarded solemnly until he saw his brother enter out of the corner of his eye. Then he threw it back in one gulp and pushed himself away from the bar, heading for the restroom. Nervous butterflies fluttered in his stomach. What if they’d repaired the hole?

He shook his head at his own ridiculousness. It had been here for years, and the owners surely knew about it. If they’d wanted to do something about it, they would have done so already. The restroom was dingy but clean, with three cubicles along one wall, three steel urinals opposite and two sinks by the door, surmounted by a cracked, fly-spotted mirror. Sam entered the cubicle in the corner of the room and locked the door. His breathing was harsh with anticipation as he took hold of the toilet paper holder and slid it sideways to reveal a hole about eight inches in diameter.

He heard the door squeak and the scrape of boots against the tile floor outside and he realized he was holding his breath. He listened as the footsteps came closer and then the door to the cubicle next to his opened and shut. The lock slid closed with a click and then there was silence, save for the rough sounds of breathing.

Sam squirmed with discomfort. Then the scrape-slide of the toilet paper holder in that middle cubicle and light filtered through the hole. Sam tried not to look but in the gap at the bottom of the partition he could see the toes of the boots of the man in the next cubicle. He recognized those boots, and immediately looked away. _This is a stranger_ , he told himself. He heard the sound of a zipper and then there was a cock presented to him through the hole. He admired it for a moment and wet his lips before kneeling down on the cold tile floor and licking a stripe from balls to tip. He was rewarded with a groan and he smiled. He cupped those balls in one hand and mouthed at the head, making sure he flicked his tongue into that hole in way that always made De-

_No, don’t think about that. Just keep going._

He sucked more of the length into his mouth and began to apply himself in earnest. He could feel his own arousal building and it occurred to him that he should have opened his jeans first. He backed away and ignored the irritated grunt from the other side of the partition. Quickly unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his erection, he shuffled forward and captured that beautiful cock in his mouth once more.

His free hand stroked himself in time to the rhythmic sucking motion he’d set up, the breathy pants and huffs of pleasure from his partner in this game telling him just how close he was. When hands appeared at the top of the partition, it was time to move on. He released the cock in his mouth with a pop and grinned at the muttered curse from the other side. Then he clambered to his feet and shoved his jeans and underwear to his ankles. The butt plug he now inserted as a matter of routine, just in case today was one of those days, slid easily out of his ass and he wrapped it in toilet paper and tucked into the pocket of his jacket.

There was an impatient thump on the cubicle wall, and it was hard not to spit out some snarky remark. But Sam bit his tongue and silently offered a sachet of lube through the hole. He heard the rasping sound torn from a throat and then watched as nimble fingers opened the packet and coated that gorgeous cock in slick, shiny goodness. Sam quivered, his pulse racing and he turned his back and bent over, presenting himself like an offering. He felt that cock slide between his buttocks, teasing over his hole and he shuddered and gasped. He wanted to beg, to cry out but he clenched his fists and forced himself to just feel, to take what he was being given.

Luckily, he wasn’t the only eager one today. Pressure built against his entrance and he pushed back impatiently, drawing a deep chuckle from the other cubicle. The cock head penetrated that first ring of muscle, tight even despite the stretching of the plug. He thrust his hips back but there was no deeper penetration and he whined. His eyes flaring open in alarm, he jammed a fist into his mouth and waited. Had he blown it? Sam stayed absolutely still, waiting for the decision. He almost howled with pleasure when instead the cock surged into him, all the way to the hilt. It withdrew and slammed back into him, once, twice, three times. Fisting his own weeping cock, Sam began to jack himself in time to the thrusts.

He adjust the angle slightly, to ensure that every plunge of that beloved cock deep into his ass would slide over his prostate, winding his arousal tighter and tighter. He was breathing heavily, one hand braced against the wall and the other still wrapped around his erection. He was being fucked in earnest now, rough, wordless sounds from the other side of the partition telling him it wouldn’t be long before the end. He felt it, the moment the climax struck, the cock inside him twitching and pulsing as it shot jets of come into him. The sensation tipped him over the edge, as it always did and he moaned involuntarily as he came messily all over his hand.

There was nothing but the sound of his breathing, loud in his ears, and the softer sounds of exhaustion from his partner. He was slick with sweat and riding the endorphin high of release, but he didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay here, forever filled with this forbidden fruit. But sooner or later someone would come in here. They had been lucky not to be disturbed as long as they had. Sam pulled the butt plug out of his pocket, discarding the tissue and then carefully shifted, feeling suddenly bereft as the cock withdrew. He quickly reinserted the plug, wanting to keep as much of the come inside him as possible.

He cleaned up as best he could before pulling up his underwear and jeans and fastening them. He could see through the hole that his bro- that the man was still braced against the wall, his breathing ragged. Taking a deep breath, he slid the toilet paper holder back into position and then flushed the toilet and opened the cubicle door. He walked over to the sink and studiously avoided looking at his reflection as he washed his hands.

Back in the bar, someone had turned on a TV and a football game was blaring, the loud noise strangely soothing after that silent fuck. Sam briefly considered stopping for another drink. But that was against the rules and Sam had learned the hard way that breaking the rules meant he would have to wait a very long time for this to happen again. So he headed straight for the door and walked over to the Impala, her paintwork gleaming at him in the sunlight. Dean would be out soon, so he tilted his head back and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on his face.

Sure enough, his brother appeared a few minutes later and he loped over to the car with that familiar stride of his that made Sam’s throat ache. His eyes flickered over Sam as he unlocked the car and climbed inside, before leaning over to open the passenger door. Sam said nothing as he got in and Dean revved the engine before roaring away.

**Author's Note:**

> My first Wincest fic. Reviews are love!


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